


So What If I Can't Read Minds

by Archaitte



Category: Mafiatale - Fandom, Undermafia - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Female pronouns, First Undertale fanfic, Hope You Enjoy This Even If It Sucks, How Do I Tag, I Haven't Gotten That Far Tbh, I WONT LEAVE YOU GUYS, M/M, Mild cussing, No Smut??, Not Really But Maybe I'll Put Papyrus In The Closet So He Can Come Out Officially, Please Don't Hate Me, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader has depression, Reader-Insert, Skeletons In The Closet, first fanfic, i'll add tags as i go, please accept this, reader is female
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-24 13:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8374609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archaitte/pseuds/Archaitte
Summary: Rain has always meant more to you than nature could ever understand.Being a small, inferior human in a city of thugs and dirty business men and mafia families that were out to kill for the head of the lesser person, you appreciated the smallest things, because that's usually all you could get. But the City of Colors is watered down like a strong glass of lemonade, and you find the hope you've always needed and searched for, only to be ripped from your bleeding hands as soon as you fight to protect it.Spiraling down a series of events that don't happen because you want them to, but merely because they can, you fight to remain strong as the understanding you once had of the world around you comes crumbling down like an old building and you're forced to swallow the bitter pill of truth as you are forcefully involved in the biggest mystery that you've never encountered in your entire measly life in the City of Colors.*'So What If I Can't Read Minds' is a Mafiatale fanfic that largely portrays and emphasizes the Meaning of Friendship, Anxiety and Depression, Various Different Forms of Love and the Importance of Family, whether through water or blood.





	1. The Girl in the Rain with the Lone Blue Lily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But the girl refused.

A thrum echoed throughout the city of Ebott, humming a seemingly supernatural melody to the people that reside in it. The city itself was lackluster, now, without the passing population to bless its streets with the colors of the rainbow; instead, the only color to the city was the drowned mix of blacks, greys and greyed earthy tones, all bleeding together like an overly-wet watercolor painting. Not even the mountain next to the city dared to shine in brilliant glory; the normal emerald green glow of the forest was replaced with the muddled colors that one could only compare to the sad creek, with the mud and the moss mixing together and creating an ugly mix of earth and nature. The city seemed to weep, but for what, the people did not know.

Huddled, her back to the sky and her face to what she held delicately in her small hands, the girl crouched in the rainy alleyway. Her long blonde tendrils of hair hung in sopping clumps around her neck and back, and wisps of newly-growing hair clung to her face from the overwhelming moisture. Her jacket stuck to her in the most uncomfortable areas, the cotton pouring a neverending current of water onto the greyed asphalt of the alley below, creating small streams leading to a main stream of running water that pulsated and flowed roughly to a large city drain not far from where the young girl was hunched over in a protective stance. The water roared at her, threatening to swallow her where she stood if she did not move.

But the girl refused.

In her hands, so delicate and small, laid a single blue lily that glowed a soft blue light. It had long since been cut off by the stem, but the lily continued to flourish, its comforting glow never dimming. It held hope, it held dreams, and it held promises that the girl could hear it whispering to her, the soft sound of a small bell gracing lightly into the girl’s ears, settling in her mind where she transferred them to her heart to be stored for longer than eternity. The girl held onto the lily as her anchor in the ever-dangerous world she was left in, with its bleeding colors running down the drain like washing off a canvas. The girl knew what would happen if she was spotted with something as valuable as the glowing lily, but she didn’t care. She would keep it hidden and safe, away from the greedy, dripping hands of the business owners and mafia families that littered and controlled the areas in the city of colors. She would protect its glow, even if that meant giving her life for it.

The girl didn’t know how she ended up with the flower. It had been floating down the current river of a drainage system when she was so lucky as to spot it while she was huddled in the alley, waiting for the sky to finish its masterpiece. But as she had first picked up the glowing, warm flower, she knew that it was no coincidence that this flower ended up here with her. But from whom could it be?

Maybe she would’ve been able to think about who could’ve possibly blessed her if a can didn’t clink down the alley asphalt, a shockingly metallic sound in the silencing beat of the rain. Head shooting up, eyes wide with a wide array of emotions unplaced, the girl snapped to see what she would be running away from. There, at the end of the long alley, was the dark figure of a tall person, its lanky silhouette seemingly just as frozen as the girl remained. The person was still a ways from the girl, but she would take no risks, and rose to her feet slowly, mind and heart ready to race down the opposite path if the silhouette so much as took a single step towards her; towards the flower.

Minutes raced by, matching the speed of her heart. The rain dripped down in a steady beat, filling the air with music as the two stared. Nausea rose the girl’s throat with the nervous, frantic breaths that entered and exited her fragile lungs. But then— the silhouette started towards her, walking at a pace that only a tall person could keep up.

Anxiety pulsed in her veins and she spun around quickly, the flower tucked lightly to her chest right above her heart, and she ran with all her might towards the end of the alley. Water splashes and the sound of pounding shoes joined the chorus of the rain as the girl ran and the silhouette gave chase, erratic bouts of breath shuddering past the girl’s lips as she dashed across the asphalt. The muted sounds of someone calling for the girl murmured in a shout that was only slightly louder than the rain’s song, but it brushed past the girl anyways. She was not willing to listen to the stranger.

She was not willing to risk losing _her_ flower.

The end of the alleyway opened up to an empty stretch of road the led into the heart of the city, and the girl ran with the speed of a fox over it, not watching for any cars because of the heavy rains. More shouting sounded behind her, but this time louder, closer. The girl inhaled sharp and quick, fear stabbing her in the gut before lending wings of eagles to her feet as she covered ground quicker and quicker. She only needed to make it to the next alley, then she would be able to easily lose her pursuer.

Or so she thought.

And maybe it would’ve worked, if the pavement of the road had not been as slick as ice and if she had not been going to fast with how clumsy she was. Her foot slid, and time seemed to slow to a halt. Her second foot, trying to catch her, slipped as well and she could feel her body being pulled down, lower and lower, towards the earth and away from the sky, the hope she had in her heart slipping with it as she landed on her side, her head striking the hard, wet pavement with a sickening thud, and the world going dark.

So, so very dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings all!
> 
> I just want to take a moment to thank you for reading thus far! It really means a lot to me, and I dearly hope that you enjoyed it/are enjoying it.
> 
> I don't have anyone that beta reads what I write, so I'd really appreciate if you could/would point out to me in the comments if I messed up any grammer or spelling! :3 It'd help a bunch.
> 
> I'm a mere hobbyist in the art of writing, and this happens to be not only my first fanfiction but also the first piece of writing I've put onto the internet. (Q w Q) A little bit nervous but I'm hopeful that you will like this story.
> 
> Also!  
> My stories tend to be created by me thinking of a line or a setting and then me just winging it from there.  
> So, in short, I kind of know where I want this to go but I'm mostly in it for the ride just like you guys! :"D  
> Which, to be honest, feels pretty terrifying to admit since that's basically the same thing as the driver of a car taking their hands off a steering wheel just to see where the thing goes.
> 
> It's a great life. (Q w Q)/)
> 
> Also, a little tidbit here, but that is indeed an Echo Flower!  
> I did some research with trying to find what an Echo Flower would most likely resemble in the real world, and I found a flower called the Rain Lily that lacks obvious leaves and has six petals.  
> Just like the Echo Flower.  
> Q w Q) I just thought that was super neat.  
> So yes; just know that the blue lily is, in fact, an Echo Flower.  
> Reader-chan just doesn't know it yet.
> 
> Chapters from here on out should be longer ; w ; I think.
> 
> This was just rather short.


	2. I Think It's A Little More Than Just Insecurity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You yelp, hand instinctively pawing for the knife, as the grunt briskly walked over to your huddled frame. The second snarled at you, forcing you up and lifting you by your shirt, causing the knife to dig in more and you to cry out in intense pain. A sick, twisted smile curses the grunt's lips before he presses a shotgun to your throat, the barrel biting into your skin and you shut your eyes forcefully.
> 
> This was surely the end.
> 
> There was no way to save you now.
> 
> A single gunshot rang out in the alley, slicing the air and your heart stops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Q w Q )
> 
> Just a quick thank you to all that are reading this- I was pleasingly shocked at how many kudos and hits it's gotten already! 
> 
> Tibia honest, I didn't expect even a quarter of this when I posted the first chapter. So this was a pleasant surprise for me. ; w ; Thank you!!
> 
> Also!! TRIGGER WARNING: There are mentions of Rape/Noncon and Depression in this chapter.

The first thing your cloudy mind registers is the light that shines unbearingly bright behind your eyelids, making colors dot across your lidded vision in an erratic way that only makes the small migraine that pounds in your head grow. Trying desperately to recall events from the past, you get the feeling you've been asleep longer than you think, because of the way you can't seem to remember anything that happened before you woke up. It's a rather haunting feeling, considering you could be in serious danger right now and not even know it. 

You strain your ears, listening to the area around you without seeing it. Drips of... Something... Create an eery feeling to the place you're in, and you feel your stomach drop in fear, but you fight off the urge to throw up.

Trying to get a further feeling for the area, you notice that what you're laying on something made of a soft cloth that seems rather loose as it clings to something harder, cooler under it. Finally willing yourself to satisfy your growing curiosity, you open your eyes.

And the memories come flooding back.

The eery silhouette, the chase, your flower. You sit up quickly, whiplash threatening to take effect as you search frantically for the flower. Under the cloth sheets that lay below you, under the thick quilt that hugs your tiny frame. Breath choppy and sorrowful, you look around the empty alley, and tears sting your eyes while a few race down your face, leaving streaks of warm hatred. It just  _must_ have been the silhouette that took your precious flower.

The world just wasn't kind to you at all.

But it never had been anyways.

You huff out a choked sob, and bury your head in your hands, laying back down and curling in the fetal position. Tears slid down and wetted the cloth under you, but you could care less right now. 

Now, you just didn't understand why you dared to care about anything when it was always taken from you anyways. You didn't get why you let yourself have hope when that hope became the one thing that's hurting you. 

* * * * * * * *

What felt like an eternity passed without you moving, just laying on the ground, sad and hurt to the core. But the tears had long since stopped, and you sigh heavily, finally turning to the other side with a sad grunt, and upon view your eyes widen in complete surprise. 

There, sitting on the cold asphalt, is a single plate of warm spaghetti, steam still drifting from the newly-cooked noodles in waves. Your stomach grumbles happily despite how concerned and unsure you quickly become.

Is this a trap?

Or is it a promise?

Your soul shudders at the thought, the sorrow coming back and bulging in your throat. You just... Can't trust. It isn't any surprise to you, the notion of not trusting something or someone. But you hadn't always been this...  _broken._ Nothing had always been this hard for you. You sigh, remembering your sob story of a life. Remembering what used to be.

Years ago, when you were smaller and innocent, you lived with your mother, a joyous woman with the hope of a thousand brilliant nighttime stars and as beautiful as a flower coated with the paint of the galaxies. She was a self-acclaimed "astrology buff", and you would always go to the roof of your old cottage on the side of Mount Ebott and watch the stars. You always thought the stars were flirting with you, winking as they were, but your mother never corrected you because she had seen the twinkle in your eye and decided to let your imagination do what it pleased. It was just you and her with the winking stars and the mountain, all joined in harmony and peace.

Until Cancer came to live with your mother. 

She never made a big deal of it, and even though you knew she was in a great deal of pain, she'd still leave the room when she had one of her coughing fits. And although you both knew something was horribly wrong with her, neither of you said anything, because neither of you knew what to do to get rid of it. Cancer had been uncommon at the time, and any notion of a cure or even knowledge of Cancer itself was rare and at times, pricey. You poured yourself over books about sickness in your mother's giant library room, searching and learning and trying to find anything that could help your poor mother. 

You still hadn't found something on that chilly November evening, when the cold pinched your nose and went down into your lungs, your frosty breath making you feel like one of those dragons of lore that could breath out ice and winter. Shuffling silently into the study where your mother had decided to sleep in for the past three weeks, you went to give your mother her soup for lunch, but instead simply looked at her cold figure. She was still, the puffs of white breath that left your nose failed to leave her own, her lacey white blanket never rising or falling.

On that chilly November evening, your only friend in the heartless world left you, going somewhere where your tiny hands could not reach and your shrill cries could not penetrate through. You couldn't understand why she had left you like this, before you had the time to find the cure she needed. You cried for the first time in your short life, crying so that maybe your mother would hear you. 

Maybe she'd come back for you.

Maybe she wouldn't leave you feeling so alone.

You had stayed in that house, next to your mother's wrotting body, not knowing what else to do. You were too young to get a job, being only fourteen at the time, and your mother had always said it was dangerous to go out into the city alone. But without her there...

You didn't know how to live.

Months passed in the blink of an eye and the smell from your mother got so bad that you couldn't be near her without vomiting. Broken and still paining, you were forced to leave the small cottage, turning your back on your childhood innocence and heading to the City of Colors. 

Life in the city turned out to be the biggest mistake you could have made. 

You were never without some kind of bruise or cut. At one point when you were just sixteen, you had been ambushed by one of the mafia groups and forced on the ground. Although you couldn't recall exactly what happened, you knew they had raped you. You had stayed in one dark corner of an alley after that for three days until you were so hungry you would've settled for the dirt on the ground.

Life had never been kind to you. 

You learned and taught yourself never to trust. Even after the monsters came to the surface, you were never regarded an were even hunted, at one point, during the initial breakout of the human and monster mafias. 

Ever since then, you've lived in fear, a small part of you hoping to see your mother. Half wishing she'd come back to get you and take you with her.

You release a shaky breath, breaking your stare-down with the innocent spaghetti. You know you should leave, but you feel too drained to move more than what it would take to close your eyes. Sighing in submission, your eyelids close, and you dream of the stars, the galaxies, and a single blue flower that called to you but you couldn't understand what it was saying.

* * * * * *

It had been nearly month since you had abandoned the plate of spaghetti in the crate-ridden alleyway, the blankets still on the ground but folded just to be polite in some way. You had lost the will to live more than ever now, having had a hope dangle in your face and then snatched back as soon as you touched it.

To be fair, you hadn't gotten a cut in the past week, so that was a small plus, but the weight of your sadness just weighed too much as you struggled to find somewhere to sleep for that night. It was a cold, cold November morning, the frost of a promised early winter laughing in your face as you shiver helplessly. The old jacket that you had found in a dumpster some months ago wasn't nearly enough coverage for the harsh beatings of winter. 

Turning the corner quickly to get to the alley behind a local bar, you collide head-first with another short body, both of you grunting in surprise. The stranger's arms ended up wrapping around you to steady you, a reaction you've never felt before and you freeze in your place.

"whoa there hotshot, be careful who ya decide to run into."

A deep, silky voice hums in your soul, and a shiver that wasn't from the cold trails up your spine. Looking up nervously, you find yourself just a few inches below a pair of beady white pinprick eyes, watching you with a concerned expression on his skull face. You feel yourself blush, but you can't stop staring at those  _eyes._ You feel like you were back with mother, watching the stars and making wishes. 

You faintly wish that you didn't have to look away, that maybe you could stay there forever.

But right as you wish, you realize how stupid you must look being intertwined with a random monster. Squeaking, you stagger back away from the skeleton, eyes wide and an apology already forming on your tongue. 

"I-I'm sorry, sir, I really didn't mean to-" 

You were cut off by the light chuckle that escaped his... Teeth, you guess.

"It's alright, pal, just didn't wantcha fallin' for me yet."

You stutter, completely taken aback by the skeleton's odd flirty behaviour, mouth attempting to form words but your brain failing to follow up on the plan. You finally shut your mouth, looking him over with a guarded expression. He was wearing a crimson dress shirt and black dress pants, a black pin-striped vest layered over the dress shirt. The black and crimson fedora was balanced lopsided on his head. You inwardly wince as his entire collected appearance practically screams "mobster".

A small breath of a chuckle slips past his teeth again as he shrugs simply in response to your silence, giving you a lazy parting wave before disappearing around the corner. Your mind races while trying to keep your emotions in order, trying to steel yourself, trying not to feel anything that wasn't indifference or hatred. 

But...

That had been the first time someone in this city had talked kindly towards you.

You internally fight over the emotions as you quickly shuffle to the back of Grillby's, the warm bar eminating heat and melting your frozen self as soon as you approach. You curl up against the building, hidden in between a few dumpsters. The smell wasn't the best, but the heat made up for everything, and you feel yourself settle into the hard asphalt, willing sleep to come and release you from this troubling situation you found yourself currently in. 

You don't want to think of that skeleton more than you thought of the thugs that beat you on occasion, but you feel your mind being drawn to that deep voice full of mystery and exciting danger.

You don'r want hope to see someone again. You don't want to be confused. 

Overall, you don't want to care about something again when it'd just leave you anyways. 

It always did. 

Why would that monster be any different?

 * * * * * *

You feel yourself rising, rising above your troubles and your pain and your suffering. The thought is comforting, and you pull into yourself, wanting to get above the troubles and maybe make a life for yourself, maybe feel better, maybe learn to get better. 

Maybe learn to love.

You float, a sun bright and red and orange glowing above you, the sky clear and blue and pure, dotted with white fluffy cotten clouds that floated lazily by you. You sighed and smiled fully, feeling the stress and distrust melt off of you and into the surrounding water. You close your eyes, comfort washing over you.

A cold chill pricks your nose.

You open your eyes, surprised, and see a single snowflake balanced there, on your nose, and you pick it up. It whispers something to you, and you put it up to your ear and ask it to repeat.

"... you trusted the water but look where that led you."

You narrow your eyes and immediately feel yourself sinking, down and down, surprise and shock causing you to flail and go into panic mode. Your mouth opens and the water rushes in uninvited, coating the inside of your mouth and throat and filling your lungs, and you're choking and you can't breathe and-

You shoot up, your breath haywire and ragged, and a single tear races down your cheek. 

What... had just happened...?

Your head races and you struggle to catch up, to interpret what the dream-or rather nightmare- meant. Not even your dreams were a safe place to escape to, it seems, and you whimper softly, feeling at a loss of what to do, burying your head into your legs, your thoughts stopping your ability to want to do anything else but think over the pain that you still can't seem to shake.

You sit there for a while before getting up slowly. Taking a deep breath of the cold morning air, you feel your head clear slightly, and you relish the feeling for a few seconds before jerking to attention, your eyes darting to the alley's entrance. 

There's a crunch of multiple shoes on the pavement, and you drop back between the dumpsters, grabbing the nearest defensive weapon you can get your hands on, which just so happens to be an empty alcohol bottle. Perfect.

The sound of footsteps gets louder and closer but there is no voices connected to them, making your stomach do flips in anticipation. Then-

Two human men, dressed in white and blue suits, saunter into the alley, knives obviously strapped to their belt. You gripped your bottle uneasily; you had dealt with these mafia grunts before, but it didn't end up so pretty. 

The first grunt sniggered at the other as he looked around the area, your heart stopping when he seemingly made eye contact with you. You held gaze with each other before he looked across the rest, and you want to let out a relieved sigh but you catch yourself before it slips.

The first gives an order to the second, and the second walks up to the back door of Grillby's, holding a lockpick in his large hand. You sit, focused intently on the second grunt, and you don't notice the first has disappeared from your sight, and you lean out further to look...

"Gotcha."

You jerked to the sound to see the grunt looming over you threateningly, his grin wider than the ocean and you snarl in hatred and fear. The grunt picks you up, your bottle hiding behind your back, and throws you to the back wall, your head colliding with the brick and causing you to see stars. The grunts laugh and the first sashays up to you, picking you up again by the front of your shirt and breathing his alcohol-scented breath all over you, trying to lock you in some sort of disgusting kiss.

You think you're helpless again, but then you remember the bottle that sits unnoticed in your palm. 

With a hiss, you bring it up-

-and it shatters with a sickening crack over the back of the first grunt's head, glass shattering into his head and the back of his neck. 

The first screams in pain, you can imagine only from the clear glass shards that still cut into his soft flesh, and the second looks up in confusion. He seems shocked by his friend's wailing, you note fearfully, before his face turns into one of silent rage, his hand flying to his belt and the knife flying out of his hand. Silver glinted evilly in the sun as the knife landed into the soft part of your shoulder, pain searing down your back and up your neck like you've been caught on fire. You yelp, hand instinctively pawing for the knife, as the grunt briskly walked over to your huddled frame. The second snarled at you, forcing you up and lifting you by your shirt, causing the knife to dig in more and you to cry out in intense pain. A sick, twisted smile curses the grunt's lips before he presses a shotgun to your throat, the barrel biting into your skin and you shut your eyes forcefully.

This was surely the end.

There was no way to save you now.

A gunshot rang out in the alley, slicing the air and your heart stops.

 

And you fell, dropping to the ground below, the second grunt wailing on the ground beside you. You grimaced in pain, not willing to look yet in fear of another grunt and in pain of the knife still in your shoulder that had dug in a little bit more because of the drop. 

Quick footsteps approach you and the grunt and a second gunshot goes off, silencing the grunt next to you. You lay still, fearful of what might be standing right there to kill you. You might not trust anyone, but you certainly didn't want to die like this.

But to your surprise, a pair of warm hands gently pick you up, cradling you carefully and lightly touching the knife cut into your shoulder. You wince and curl into the stranger, whimpering slightly. 

"Shh, it's alright. I'm going to take care of you now and then we can talk about..." The warm voice paused. " _This_ later, okay?"

You peek through your long eyelashes up at the stranger, and surprise fills you. A large flame monster looked down at you, his head of fire flickering carefully in hues of red and orange and gold and making you relax because of its pure beauty, the colors dancing with a simplistic grace you wished you could match. You nod slowly, mentally noting how his voice dipped down when he mentioned 'this', ans guess that 'this' was the fight that happened between the grunts, both of whom you figure are either dead or dying. 

He nods back and his head flicks back the the task he had at hand, a pair of rectangle wire-rim glasses being the only placeholder for where his eyes would be. He skillfully unlocks the back door to the bar, the old heavy wood creaking open slowly. 

You feel him pause, his breath hitching slightly as if mentally questioning himself before he takes you into the darkness of the bar, the smell of freshly cooked fries and the faint buzz of alcohol tickling at your nose. A warmth so surreal envelopes you as you feel your life change just a tiny bit, and a shrivel of hope sneaks in unannounced as you feel safe being in a stranger's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this angst?
> 
> I think this is angst, but correct me if I'm wrong.
> 
> And off into the action! Couldn't bear to write about Reader-chan's crippling depression. Had to throw in Grillbz to warm her up. ;3 I just think Grillbz would be the ultimate gentleman with a shotgun.
> 
> So lots of crying though! :D Reader-chan has problems, I'm afraid, and Sansy our boy sure only made them worse.  
> Off to a good start Sans. //sarcastic hair flip//
> 
> Also hope I tricked at least some of you with the summary hahaha  
> I thought it'd be cool if someone thought Reader-chan died before they even got to read what happened.
> 
> Haha but anyways; Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I rewrote this around 4 times to get the ending right, but I wanna know what you all think, because I treasure all of your comments and love.


End file.
